


Random story :P

by chiriil



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternia, Other, Reader-Insert, i have no idea what the tags are, idk what im doing tbh, what do I do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-05-31 13:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6471679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiriil/pseuds/chiriil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader insert thing, i have no idea how many chapters this will have... and if you have a title suggestion that'd be cool</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

((Starting with the prompt bc I can and I’m lazy: You go in for a rather complex dental procedure and the dentist has to put you under in order to complete it. When you wake up, though, you are no longer in the dentist office. You are on a train with a briefcase handcuffed to your wrist. Just as you are soaking this in... ))

You realize as you look around, these beings surrounding you are not human. A sobering thought, but not one that much surprises you. They resemble humans, perhaps for someone who is incredibly nearsighted. And color blind. There are variations on their structure that is not human. Eyes that are filled with colors you never thought possible, each one standing a good four feet over you (though, even for a human you are rather short), gray skin and what appear to be very warmly colored horns, and none of them spoke a language you’d ever heard before. None of them seemed to have noticed you yet. 

You examine your situation once more. You’ve just woken up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unfamiliar people, everything about the situation in unfamiliar. You know nothing here. On top of everything else you have seen, from a quick look outside the windows, it appears to be nighttime, though the passing landscape is lit with olive and fuchsia light, rather than white as you are used to. As you glance around the train car a second time, someone seems to have noticed you. You’ve noticed them as well. They may not be human, but even so you can’t seem to discern a gender, though you think they look a bit more masculine, at least by your standards. You suppose it’s a bit redundant to be focusing on things like that.  
You’ve now made contact with someone in this situation. Be it for better or worse, something will come of this. 

They slowly stand up, reaching for a nearby railing, before making their way over to you from across the aisle. As they approach, you can better record their appearance in your mind. Their eyes are blank, slightly clouded over to conceal the yellow and gray where there should be white and any other standard color. You wonder briefly if they are blind. They wear a blue mask, albeit thin, covering their mouth. Their hair is woven into countless black braids, all of them tied back. They seem to be at least somewhat important if their heavy metal and stone jewelry are any indicators of status here. 

They take a seat next to you. You say nothing. They don’t seem to be seeing you though they’re looking right at you. You hesitantly ask if they know where you are. They don’t understand you. You find their hands on your face, and perhaps they are, after all, blind. Their soft fingers caress your features and once their claws slightly scratch your chin, trying to get a feel for how you look. 

“Do you speak English?” You ask, hopeful. Again, they don't reply. You wonder once more, briefly, if they might be mute as well. 

You begin to worry as the train slows to a stop. You glance out the window but are unable to read or understand anything. Something tugging at your wrist captures your attention, and to your surprise, the person sitting next to you had broken the chain and snapped the cuff open. They were busy placing the briefcase, which you still did not know what it contained, if anything, into their bag. The doors are drawn open by who you guess are people working there. They grab your hand and lead you off the train. You let all of this happen with no resistance. Better to let someone with more knowledge of the place take the lead. 

As you are making your way through the thick crowd of people, holding onto the person's wrist so you don't get lost, you notice people looking at you. Staring, like you're something strange. You suppose you are here. After what must have been a particularly nasty comment the person leading you seems fed up with everyone else's actions. They carefully pick you up, hands under your arms, and rest you on their hip, like a child. You cling to their arm, not so afraid of the height as the fall. You decide to busy yourself by examining their face. Their eyes don’t move as much as one might expect, somewhat solidifying your suspicion. As a light breeze drifts by, their mask is lifted slightly, if only for a second, allowing you to see what they might have the need to hide. For a split second, you are able to see their reasoning for wearing it. A large scar, from what must have been burns of one kind or another, slash across their lips and chin, continuing for a short while down their neck, leaving the affected area slightly darker and tinged bluer than the surrounding skin. You make no comment on your findings, even if they wouldn’t have been able to understand you, you aren’t the kind to be unnecessarily rude like that. As you look over them further, you take note of the shape of their horns, as it seems to be one of the few things that vary between individuals here. They are nearly perfectly symmetrical, each one starting above their ears and a little forward, a thick base while elegantly sloping back, like a water droplet. 

After a while, you seem to be walking through a market, though they don´t stop to get anything, unfortunately, as you are rather hungry. You didn't know whether to eat anything before the procedure and erring on the side of caution you chose not to. You have no idea how to express this idea to the person who was still carrying you, so you stay silent. As you make your way into less crowded streets, you rethink your situation once more. You are officially out of ideas. Even if they spoke a human language, there is a minuscule chance that you would actually be able to understand it. You decide to quit thinking about your current situation and give up, letting them and fate or what have you take you where it will. 

Soon enough you are out of the crowds and walking down a narrow dirt road, a few houses visible every so often past the shrubs. You walk for another 15 or so minutes, all in silence, thinking about where you might be headed. It isn't long before you reach what must be their house. It´s about what you expected, judging by the houses you saw on the way there. It´s fairly tall, relatively speaking. While it still stands much taller than any house where you lived before, it seems to be appropriately scaled to the people here. As you get closer, you are better able to examine its exterior appearance. The surface is black, smooth walls all the way around, and there isn’t much more to see with the limited amount of light. 

They walk in without hesitation, and at this point you are relatively sure that they own this place, or, at least, have lived here for a while. The inside looks lived in as well, everything worn and soft from the wear and tear of everyday life. You are set down as they enter the house, and they leave you there while they put away their bag and take off the mask that had been concealing their mouth. 

You don't want to seem rude, so you mentally vote to stay standing where they had left you. They return after a few moments, holding something that you hope is food. You hadn't eaten in.... you don´t know how long you´d been out. They motion for you to come closer, and after a few hesitant steps forward they guide you to something that greatly resembles a couch. Some small part of you is thankful for the familiarity. They set the plate of what you still very much hope is food down on a short table in the center of the room and sit down next to you. 

“I greatly apologize for not speaking sooner. The people here do not take kindly to anything differing from their perception of normal” They say calmly, and for a moment, it’s hard to understand what they are saying through an unfamiliar accent. You are, however, greatly surprised and relieved to finally hear a familiar language. 

“I-it’s alright,” You say, still very slightly unsure of your safety in this situation. Better to be safe than sorry, as cliche as it is. “I understand. If you don’t mind me asking, whereabouts are we at the moment?” 

“Meioridin, a small city, fairly far from any excitement” The name of the town itself is completely alien, like most things so far. Doesn’t tell you much about where you are. 

“This is going to sound like a probably stupid question, but, what planet are we on?” You hoped they would say Earth, but you didn’t exactly have high hopes. 

“Alternia.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry the chapters are so short :P idk where else to break it up without them being super long

“... Though given your appearance, I don’t expect you to know where that is, or what that is for that matter.” 

You aren’t sure what you expected. But it wasn’t this. 

“Take as much time as you see fit to adjust to that.” They turn away from you slightly, picking up what looks to be an oddly colored piece of bread from the place on the table. As they take a bite, you are able to see that they have rather dangerously sharp fangs, but that train of thought is interrupted as you hear a sickening crunch, something that most bread doesn't have. 

As they glance up for a moment they notice the slightly off put expression you were wearing and stopped for a moment to talk. “I apologize again, for not speaking sooner, would you like some food?” At least it’s edible. To them. What’s normal snacks for them might kill a human. You take the chance anyways.

“Sure.” They grab you a piece, and to your displeasure, it looks very unfamiliar. Nothing like any kind of bread you had ever imagined, let alone had. You take a small bite, despite the odd taste, texture, and general look of the stuff. The taste is completely foreign to you, as expected, though you found it to be similar to sourdough bread, without the… whatever it was the gave it the odd texture and crunchiness. You almost finish the small piece when you find yourself becoming a little nauseous. Whether it was from the reality of the situation sinking in, or the strange food, you stop eating anyways. Can’t stop reality, unfortunately. 

“Are you alright?” They seem quite worried though you suppose they have reason to be. You are alien to each other, and they know nothing about you or your species. 

“I’m fine.” And you’re lying. 

“You're not. I don't know a whole lot about your species, but you look sick. Do you need something? I don't know how you'd react to medication, but-” “I'm fine, really. I'll be okay.” But your voice betrayed you. You even sound sick. 

“You very well may be fine, but that doesn't stop me from worrying.” You can tell from their voice, from how they lean forward in an attempt to see your face better. You assume their vision in the limited light is better than yours, even if they are even partially blind. 

“It's probably just the unfamiliar food, it's fine.” You try to assure them, but they don't seem to be buying it. 

“I don’t want anything to happen, or for this to get any worse, because I can’t exactly bring you to… anywhere, really” They stated, but something about it made you wonder whether it was because of you or them. “And… it’s not entirely because of you.” Alright then. Guess that’s settled.

“If you have any medicine,” You began hesitantly, “I’m willing to take the risk.”

 

“I’d rather not. I don’t know what would kill you, and it could just make it worse.” But it could help. “You’d be better off just getting some rest, and the sun’s almost up regardless. We should both be getting to sleep.” The part about the sun confused you a bit, but you quickly ignored that. They’re not human, after all, they have to reason be anything similar to humans. As they stood up you followed them, walking to another room down the hall. The door was slightly ajar as you both approached, but they didn’t seem to notice or mind. They pushed the door open with their arm and stood back to let you pass. The room is dark, like the rest of their house, and for a moment, you consider asking if they might mind turning on a light. 

In the far corner of the room is… It looks smooth, a tall cylinder, perhaps made of metal, with wires and tubes connecting it to the wall and a small metal box, perhaps a filter or heater. They didn't have anything that resembled a bed, which struck you as odd. You thought that maybe they just had to grab something from this room before going to the bedroom, but they began removing the heavy jewelry, laying it on a short table to the side of the door. They closed the door and took off the shirt they had been wearing, and you turned away before they did anything else. 

“Do you want to take off your jacket? Nothing else, if you're not comfortable, but I don't want all of your clothes getting ruined.” You turn back to face them, and thankfully they had shorts on, though nothing else. “We can take shifts if you want, I wouldn't want you sleeping the whole time without sopor, I've tried it.”

“Wait, what?” Now you are officially confused. 

“I imagine sleeping without sopor in your current condition can't be good for you, so we can take shifts if you want. Or you can sleep there the whole night,” they gestured to the tank in the corner, “and I'll find something to do in the meantime and take a nap when you're up.” 

“You sleep in that?” You glanced over to the thing before meeting their eyes again. 

“Yeah, my old recuperacoon was destroyed by some drones, so until I can find a better one, that’s all I have.” They seemed fairly nonchalant about it, though from their wording it wasn’t considered normal, or at least whatever they have isn’t normal.

“Oh…. um… humans don’t really… do that…” It’s always awkward explaining biological differences between species. 

“You don’t sleep?” They sounded a little bit like they didn’t believe you, but considering you are alien to them they might have been considering the possibility of that statement being true.

“No, no, we sleep, just… not in those.” Again, awkward. “Just on a bed.” Gesturing with your hands didn’t seem to clarify. You could practically see their confusion, despite the darkness, so you explained further, “It’s like, something soft, like a couch without the back part? But wider and sometimes longer, with blankets and pillows and stuff.”

They seemed to have at least a slightly better understanding after that. “Hm. Alright. I guess you could sleep on the couch, but if my lusus gets back, I don’t know how they’ll react… would you mind sleeping in here for the time being?” You have no clue what a lusus is, and you’re kind of afraid to ask. “I could gather up all the blankets and make a pile in the corner?” That sounded at least kind of comfortable. 

“Alright, that sounds good.” You’ve barely finished talking when they walk back out the door, leaving you in silence for a short while before they return holding a stack of somewhat folded blankets. They leave them in the corner which you assume they have designated as your sleeping spot.

“Sounds good. If you need anything, wake me up. Don’t go outside the room if you can help it. My lusus should be back soon and I don’t know how they’ll react to you being here.” They concluded the sentence with a little wave and walked over to the side of the tank in the corner. They didn’t seem to need any assistance in getting in, because they held on to one side of the edge, kicked off the wall, and pulled themselves the rest of the way over without a problem. You were kind of impressed.

You decided to sleep as well. Even though you don’t normally sleep during the day, you don’t know how long you’ve been out, or awake, and realized how tired you had become. Arranging the blankets they had supplied you with into a pile against the wall, and saving one to keep you warm, you got comfortable quicker than expected, and dozed off without a problem.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [need to edit this further bc past tense / future tense stuff getting mixed up, but oh well]

To your disappointment, the next time you awoke was not night. The sun was still up, as you could see through what must be a window near the tank, blocked almost entirely by dark curtains. You had thrown off the blankets in your sleep, ending up a short ways away from the original pile. You sat up quietly and glanced around the room. The person, whom you had realized never introduced themselves, was still asleep in the…. thing. It was too strange to call it a bed.

Against your better judgment, you decide to investigate the thing. They probably wouldn’t mind, and you weren’t leaving the room, so it should be fine, right? Walking over to the corner of the chamber, you realized how warm it had become with the sun up. Probably also against your better judgment, you decide to take off your jacket and shirt. You had been wearing a thin tank top under both, so if they happened to wake up, it wouldn't be too weird. 

Now that the room is partially illuminated, you can see the strange object better. It's made of metal, not polished but not rough either though it does appear to have been damaged in a few places. You couldn't reach the top without assistance, so you tried to do what they had earlier to get in. You grabbed the edge with one hand, though you needed to jump a little bit to reach it, and try to kick off the wall but (predictably) missed, and your foot swung back too hard for you to stop it. A dull clang rang out as it made contact with the metal sides. You let yourself slide down the side to the ground. There wasn't much else in the room to get you high enough to see over the top, aside from the table, but that had all of their jewelry laying across it, and you wouldn't want to damage any of it somehow. Unfortunately piling up the blankets wouldn't get you high enough either. 

You stood silently for a few minutes, debating going against what they had said and exploring the rest of the house. Your wandering eyes returned to the filter box beside the tank. It wouldn't get you all the way up, but it was close enough and just tall enough to get you up to the edge. Looking in, even though you had to stand on your toes to do so, you saw… slime. Or some sort of thick liquid, and it was green. The top of their head is just visible, a few braids having drifted back to the surface. 

Out of (perhaps morbid) curiosity, you reach your hand in. It’s pleasantly cool, refreshing against the sweltering heat of day. You pull your arm out slowly, watching the slime drip off your skin until there’s nothing left. Climbing back down, you decide to at least attempt to sleep for the rest of the day. You grab a few blankets from the corner and pile them up again, this time in a corner between the cool metal of the tank and a wall. Leaning against the metal is a much-needed contrast, cooling you down just enough to reach a comfortable enough temperature for sleep.

You awoke the next day. Or, the night might be the right word. You aren’t sure what to call it, but you know that the sun is down, and to you, that means night, even though they seem to sleep during the day and go about their business at night. You look around the room, half expecting them to be still asleep. The door is still closed, and you can’t spot any immediate changes to the room. Getting up, stretching, and yawning keeps you occupied for a few minutes. You notice how cold it’s gotten since the sun went down, and put your shirt and jacket back on though the warmth they offer is not immediate. Looking out the window keeps you occupied for a few more minutes. To your surprise, though finding differences between this world and yours should not be surprising, they don't have one moon. They have three. A green one, casting it's olive light upon the planet, and two fuchsia, one much smaller and orbiting the other. It appears to be a cloudless night, even if you're not entirely sure if clouds are possible here. The door quietly clicked open behind you, and you turn around to see who it, though you have a fairly accurate guess who it will be. 

“Good to see you're up, are you feeling better?” They ask quietly, and you nod in response. The effects of whatever went on yesterday had worn off for the most part. “Good. I had an idea for today, on the off chance we need to go somewhere or someone visits, as unlikely as that is, you'll fare far better if you look like one of us. The first and likely easiest thing to do at the moment is dying your hair black although it's pretty close right now, better to be safe than sorry.” 

Sounded like a decent plan. “Alright. Are you going to do that now?”

“Whenever you want to, but the sooner we get all this done, the better.” They gestured for you to follow them, and you walked a few paces behind them to the room you had been eating in when you first arrived. They continued walking, so you hesitantly followed. 

“This is the kitchen, I'm assuming you wouldn't be familiar with the terminology of lower blood castes, so,” they looked back at you, and you nod again as a way of telling them that you know what they mean, and thankfully they take it as intended. “I couldn't actually go to a store and get packaged dye, but I've found that some of the plants growing on the side of my hive make excellent ink, and I figure it's not that far off from dye.” Hive? You momentarily ignore the strange wording. 

“It sounds like it'll work. How long do you think this will take?” You wonder how long this will last. You've never dyed your hair before, but from friends that have you've heard it usually lasts a while, with proper care and all that. 

“Not more than a few hours at most. And my lusus is away at the moment, out wandering around probably. You won't have to meet them today.” At least that delays the inevitable. “I’ve prepared everything though I might recommend removing your jacket. I’ve never done this before, so it might get kind of messy.” They concluded with a small chuckle. You weren’t necessarily worried about this being messy, a bit more focused on what people would think if- when, hopefully- you get back home. You take off your jacket, opting to leave it on the ground near the wall rather than tie it around your waist, in case it got dye on it. 

“We should just have to soak your hair for a while, but if the dye doesn't take, I might have a friend who can do it.” They seem unsure of themselves, as far as everything going okay, which leaves you a little worried. They think for a moment before continuing, “I guess we could go to them first, if you want. But that involves traveling through the city, so you'd have to either be hidden away- which leaves the risk of you being found and both of us killed, or disguised, which would probably work.”

“If it's not too much trouble, I'd rather go to someone else, where there's less of a chance of it going wrong the first time.” You'd hate to seem rude, like they're not good enough to do it, but it'd save you both some time to get it done right the first time. 

“Alright. We might be able to make it there by daybreak if we hurry, and we can stay the day there. It's a refugee camp in the next town over, and there we won't have to worry about disguises, but until we arrive, you need to look like one of us.” 

“That shouldn’t be too hard, I guess. Skin color and hair,” You begin, but are cut off by both a look from them that tells you maybe you said something rude, and them talking that confirms it.

“Skin color, hair color, horns, teeth, blood, eyes, height, mannerisms, language; nearly everything about you besides your bone structure. And even then, there are differences.” So this would be more complicated than you thought. “Though many of those things can be helped. Some remedies are permanent, however. And I don’t know if you’ll ever get to go back to where ever you came from, unfortunately.” 

“Do you want to get going on the trip then? The sooner we get there the better.” Not that you’re itching to get out of there and into the unknown. But the more time you have there to do whatever you need to do, the easier this will likely be.

“Yes. You don’t have much to pack, but I need supplies and weaponry for travel, in case something happens. I can be packed within the hour, if you’d be willing to help me.” They say in a way that suggests you should probably help them, for your sake and theirs. You nod and follow them around their house, getting bags, filling all of them with containers of water, unidentifiable food, clothes, and finally weapons. They seem to have an alarming amount of weaponry, most of them looking to be efficient only at a close distance. Countless sheathed knives of all sizes and shapes, some folding, some dull, some still showing signs of having been used recently, you hope not on a person. Only a few guns are packed, a short rifle and a shotgun, along with a small amount of ammo for both. Neither of them look like they’ve been used at all. A very small crossbow, the whole thing hardly big enough to be considered a slingshot, loaded with only a few arrows. 

“I’m ready if you are.” They state, and seeing as to how you don’t have anything to pack, and they know you’re as ready as you ever will be. They load you up with a few of the lighter bags, and a few small easily concealed knives. You step out the door, for the first time in almost a full day, the air fresh and moon's still shining overhead. The first steps of a long, long journey along an entirely unfamiliar path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you have any suggestions on where the story should go that'd be cool, it'd be like a choose your own adventure thing? Unless I've already written a good portion of the next chapter then I guess I'll work it in somewhere?)


	4. Chapter 4

“Try to stay as close to me as you can stand, don’t talk to anybody, don’t look at anyone, and don’t touch anything or anyone.” They say to you, hushed, as you make your way down the seemingly abandoned street. You don’t see or hear anything other than the animals in the forests flanking the road on either side. You walk with them in silence for a while, and it seems longer this time than when you first arrived, though you suppose you were being carried that time. As you appear to approach the city, they stop for a moment to retrieve something from their bag. 

“Here, put this on,” they hand you an oversized cloak that could be any color with how worn and dirty it is, “our best choice of action is for you to remain quiet, don't move, pretend you're asleep.” You slip on the cloak, judging from their quickened manner of speaking they seem to be getting anxious. Once you have the cloak on they pick you up, carrying you the same way they had the first time. 

Although it's hard to see or hear much with your face buried in the crook of their neck, you notice that you're passing more and more people as time passes. You've settled into a comfortable position, holding hands with yourself, arms around their neck. They aren't wearing the jewelry, so your face is pressed to their warm skin. You can feel their pulse where your face is against their neck. You have no idea what it should be, but it seems fast. They walk quicker and quicker as they get closer to the city, passing more buildings and more people, and even a few cars. 

They're nearly running by the time you approach a train station, similar to what you'd seen before, if not a little more run down. They undo their hair with their free hand and shake their head, letting it fall over your face and hands, effectively hiding your skin. You lose track of what happens for a short while. You can see a few scratches of dim light through their heavy braids; concrete, then wooden planks, then a metal platform, where a few unintelligible words are exchanged with someone. They don't seem to be hostile, but tense. Eventually, they let you both pass, and you're set down as they sit in the corner of a dark train car. This car holds no cargo, other than people. The only light offered by the single open door is too dim to see much by. There are quite a few people in the small metal canister, all of them sitting on the bare metal floor, shoulder to shoulder. The person you've arrived with has settled down between two others, and they're the only person you can see. Their eyes are almost reflective in the pupils, like a cat. It's a little unnerving. You make your way over to them, and the people around them take no notice of you as you get near. Before you can fully kneel down, they pull you closer, to the point where you're sitting across their lap. 

You jump a little as the door is slammed shut, and soon after the person sitting next to the two of you breaks the near silence, exchanging a few words with the person you've come to know as ‘yours’ for lack of a better word, ending with a quiet laugh from both. You jump again when the train starts moving, quickly accelerating, and the noise of metal wheels on metal tracks soon nearly drown out your thoughts. There's little talking for the majority of the ride, only a few times when the train slowed for a moment was there any murmuring. During a few of these times when you could hear the other people in the car talking, you thought for a brief second you overheard a few familiar words, but they were quickly cut off by the train accelerating again. 

Nearly the rest of the ride is spent in silence, at least for you. You're almost asleep by the time the train slows for good and are awakened by them standing up, picking you up again. The doors are pulled open by the same person that had closed them, and they say nothing as you walk out, into an even stranger environment. A few other people get off here as well, walking off to the same place as you seem to be headed. The surrounding trees look strange in the odd lighting, and you catch a glimpse of a few animals between the branches and leaves. They follow the other people along a worn path, and the train continues on its way. The long grass cluttering the space between tree trunks, occasionally brushing against your legs. 

As you walk deeper into the forest, the sound of anything mechanical or artificial fades away. They pull their hair off to one side, uncovering your arms and face and allowing you a better view. One of the others walking nearby is looking at you, though you can't tell their intention. They briefly smile at you, showing their sharp teeth, and you return it for a short while. 

The silent exchange is cut off, much to your surprise, by what looks to be a large white griffin swooping down and tackling them. They don't seem to mind, and neither do the others around you. A few people chuckle, and most of them smile at the scene. As you continue moving, you can see the two still lying on the ground behind everyone else. They're grinning, almost trying the wrestle with the strange animal. It all looks to be in good fun, and you don't doubt the strong bond they must have. Instead of mounting the mythical creature, like any sensible person would when faced with a griffin, (because let's be honest, they're kind of awesome) they brush themselves off and continue on their way walking beside it. 

“That’s their lusus.” The person holding you half-whispers, and you can hear the smile in their voice. If that’s what their lusus looked like, you were going to have some second thoughts about meeting them. 

It isn't long before you reach what must be the camp itself. There are small houses built in a semi-circle, a few rows radiating outwards, with a garden in the middle. The other people walking with you disperse, all headed to different houses. You approach one of the houses off to one side, and they set you down before walking in. Following them in, you look around the dark interior. There is little light, and walking down the short front hall, there are a few brightly colored lanterns hanging from the ceiling every few feet, the light not quite reaching the floor. 

A woman, who had been sitting at a table in what you mentally label as the kitchen, looks up when the two of you walk in. She gets up and greets them, smiling wide, and the two of them exchange a short greeting, and they busy themselves with unloading most of their bags. They both seem happy to see each other, and you don't want to break up their meeting, so you politely stand off to the side. At a lull in the conversation, she glances over to you. 

She says something to them, and thankfully they switch languages. “This is….” They begin, looking over to her, then back to you. “I apologize, yet again, but it has come to my attention that we’ve never properly introduced one another. My name is Jasoni, and this is Nafira.” You state your name, and they nod. You were expecting a handshake or something similar, but none of those things present themselves. 

She smiles warmly like she's meeting an old friend, and soon enough you find yourself in a bear hug, along with Jasoni. For a quiet moment, you can feel both of their heartbeats at once. She pulls away from the two of you, hands still resting on your shoulders. She's looking you over and after a moment, she begins to seem concerned. She asks Jasoni something, brows starting to crease, her eyes not leaving you at first. He laughs, and she looks at him like he just showed up at someone's funeral and started cracking jokes. 

“Sorry.” He held a hand over his mouth, “she asked me what happened to your horns.” And at that, you had to laugh too. She looked even more confused than before. “Perhaps it's too dark in here, we'll go outside, and she can see you better.” He starts walking to the door, and you follow, and then Nafira. 

Once you are outside, you realize how bright the moonlight really is here. She steps out and closes the door, then turns to face the two of you. Her expression becomes a mix of confusion, surprise, and fear. She hurriedly asks Jasoni something, glancing between both of you. He starts explaining, and you get a little bored being out of the loop again. Their language sounds familiar, kind of like German, but with a different tone, too many or too few syllables, or sounds you didn't know were possible in everyday conversation. A few moments later a familiar voice catches your attention. 

“She’ll help you, but you might have to be explaining everything about you in the meantime.” And you'd noticed a few other people staring as they walked by too. It kind of made you wonder about the differences between your species. “And, please forgive me for asking such a rude question outright like this, but, what is your blood color?”

“My what?”


	5. Chapter 5

“You know, your color, your caste.” He sounded awkward explaining it, like it wasn't something that needed explaining, but something you should just know.

“It's… red?” You aren't sure what that means for you, but that's what it is. No use hiding it from them. 

“Oh. Dark red?” They seemed hopeful. 

“Well, I guess, what counts as dark to you?” Not trying to be rude but is there that much of a difference between red and dark red? It's not like your blood is going to be pink. 

“I would completely understand if you didn't want to do this, but it would be easier just to see.” Hold up. 

“Like, cut my hand or something?” It wouldn't hurt that bad, but it'd be sore for a while. 

“Yes, I have a dull blade that won't cut too deep.” Here we go I guess. He grabbed a small dagger from a thin bag still slung over his shoulder and slid the sheath off. It didn't look very dull, but you take it anyways. You carefully hold out a finger and press the tip of the blade in just enough to break the skin. The blade was definitely not dull by your standards, and left a deeper cut than you anticipated. A drop of blood rolled down your finger, and you let it fall to the ground. 

Nafira looked at you, now with pity. Someone who had been walking by looked in, and seemed surprised to see you, or your blood. They said something to Nafira quickly before running off, and she initially tried to stop them, before giving up as they got farther away. She mentions something to Jasoni, and he seems amused. You wipe off the blade and hand the knife back to him. He pauses, staring at the glinting blade still slightly red, before sliding it back into its sheath and putting it into his bag. 

“There's someone else here with blood like yours.” He says, peering off in the direction the person had ran. “They'll likely be surprised to see you.” Sweet. Meeting more aliens. This time with your blood being one of the only similarities. 

Jasoni and Nafira chat for a while, leaving you to your thoughts. After a few minutes, the same person returns, dragging along someone else. The new person looks like they've been through some shit; their arms and face are covered in scars, one of their horns looks like it's been chipped a few times, the other broken clean off near their skull, and their clothes are a little more worn and dirty than the other people you'd seen.

“What did you mean by caste?” You interrupt their conversation with the same question you had earlier, though they stopped talking when the other person walked up anyways. 

“You don't know what the caste system is?” He asked, seeming as perplexed as Jasoni was earlier. “What color is your blood?”

“Red?” Seriously, is it that important? He takes your hand, examining where you had cut yourself. You didn't expect it to come to this, but soon there were slightly red-tinged tears running down his face, which freaked you out a little. And yet again, you were being hugged by an alien. He's crying on your shoulder now, and you don't know how to comfort him. Hell, you don't even know what's wrong. 

“I don't understand what's going on, why is this such a big deal?” You ask, and thankfully someone finally takes the time to explain it to you. He pulls you aside, a few feet away from where Jasoni and Nafira are standing. 

“The caste system is essentially a way of ordering the blood colors, making some of them ‘better’ than others.” He begins, seeming patient, even when you interrupt him. 

“So, people have different colors of blood?” He nods, and continues. 

“And yours, and mine, would be considered a mutation, placing us the lowest on the spectrum or according to some people, not on the spectrum at all, and in most cases people with our blood are culled before they even leave the caverns. From there it goes to brown, yellow, olive, jade, teal, cerulean, indigo, purple, violet, and finally fuchsia, the highest. There is only one fuchsia blooded troll on Alternia at a time, unless there's an heiress, and that would be the empress.” At least it makes a little more sense than it did a few minutes ago. “The Sun’s rising*, we should be headed inside. Who are you staying with?” 

“Jasoni and Nafira, I think.” You look back over to where they were still standing, talking. 

“If you'd like, you're free to stay with me for the day, and I can explain everything.” It sounded like a decent offer. 

“I'd have to ask, but I don't see why I wouldn't be able to.” You walk to the only other people you’re familiar with. Jasoni looks over as you approach, “Can I stay with them for the night?” You ask, and he looks like he’s considering it, but asks Nafira something before responding to you. She replies, and he relays the information back to you.

“It would be safer for the two of you to stay with us, or another highblood.” And the other looks like he agrees. “Is there anyone higher that you could stay with?” He asks them, and they nod. 

“I have a friend; he’s probably the highest-blooded troll here. He wouldn’t mind another guest.” You didn’t know this other person, but you’d have someone who’s at least your acquaintance with you, and the two of you are apparently the same caste. “Do you know where their hive is?” Jasoni nods.

“I can walk over there with you.” He says what sounds like a goodbye to Nafira, waving as she walks back to her house, and he joins you on your walk over. They seem to live farther into the woods and a little ways away from the clearing with the other houses, but as you approach you can see why. The house itself is huge, at least three stories, completely black on the outside, but showing purple accents here and there; There are embellishments, almost statues, carved into the pillars holding up the roof. It looks plenty imposing and dangerous, but they don’t hesitate in walking straight in. You walk in quickly after them, the doors slamming shut behind you. The inside is dark, a bit damp, and musty, like someone hadn’t lived here in a few years. 

When you walk into what would probably be called the family room, someone, likely the owner and occupant of the house, looks up from their “work” at a low-sitting table covered in bottles, jars, and small cups of strange looking fluids. They look much more… familiar than the others you’ve meet so far. Familiar if only because they seem like a serious stoner, the musky smell coming from an intricate looking pipe sitting beside them on the dirty floor. The smoke itself smells sweet, but is still annoying to breathe. You secretly hope this isn’t who you’re really staying with.

“Yo, what’s up? And what the actual fuck is that thing?” Their voice is what you expected, not extremely low but kind of rough, like they just woke up from a coma, or needed to clear their throat but was putting it off. You assume they were talking about you when they say ‘that thing.' They stand up, unsteadily, bracing themselves on the table and then stumbling over to the wall. After resting for a moment and regaining their balance, they make their way over to the only other people in the room. They look you up and down, and after deeming you friendly, decide that now is a mighty fine time for another hug. For the first time, albeit hesitantly, you return the gesture. They’re small enough that you can almost wrap your arms around them. Surprisingly, they're fairly close to your size, maybe a head taller, at most. The two of you stay there for a long moment, and when they pull you in tighter for a second you can feel their heartbeat against your own, and a minute later they release you. 

“You’ll be fine here, you don’t have to be worrying about things like that now.” After seeing your slightly puzzled gaze, they continue with a shrug. “Seems like something I should say and you should hear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the trash (・。・;)  
> (seriously tho idk what to name this. send help.)


End file.
